


As-tu déjà essayé? | Have you tried it?

by idiom



Series: Sébastien Le Voyeur [1]
Category: The Old Guard (Movie 2020), The Old Guard - Fandom
Genre: Drunkenness, M/M, Pre-Canon, Shameless Smut, Smut, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-23
Updated: 2020-08-23
Packaged: 2021-03-06 20:53:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,239
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26055250
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/idiom/pseuds/idiom
Summary: It's Les Années Folles and The Old Guard are in Paris enjoying the peace times.After getting into an a little spat with an absinthe-soused Nicky, Sébastien leaves the party early and heads back to the flat they are all sharing. He's about to pass out when Nicky and Joe come home. Still sloshed from the party, their noisy entrance leads Sébastien to get out of bed and go tell them off. That plan goes out the window when he reaches their open door...- - -“Mon Dieu,Nicky. My god,” Sébastien laughed. “I was married and I had three children. Do you think I enjoy the company of men?”“Well, it’s been a hundred years.” Nicky shrugged. “As-tu déjà essayé?Have you tried it?”
Relationships: Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani/Nicky | Nicolò di Genova
Series: Sébastien Le Voyeur [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1913455
Comments: 57
Kudos: 434





	As-tu déjà essayé? | Have you tried it?

**Author's Note:**

> So... the last thing I wrote had no smut and I needed to make up for it. Also Nicky/Joe + Booker is my (not-so) guilty pleasure. ;P 
> 
> Amusez-vous! <3

PARIS  
1925

With a huff of air, Nicky’s laugh broke apart a delicate smoke ring floating through the party. The cloud diffused into the haze that had slowly filled the room as the evening went on. Smiling to himself, Nicky leaned back against a silk embroidered sofa and kicked his feet up onto the swirling, gold-leafed, art-nouveau coffee table.

“I love this thing,” Nicky slurred drunkenly, flicking the cigarette he was smoking between two fingers to knock off the ash. “What did you say it was called again, Sébastien?”

“ _C'est une cigarette._ It’s a cigarette.” Sébastien replied, sounding as bored as the jaded hundred and fifty year old that he was. He tossed Nicky the rest of his pack. _“_ Gauloises. Enjoy.”

“Careful, I’ve heard those things will kill you,” Joe chuckled to himself while Nicky continued drunkenly blowing smoke rings into the already foggy air.

“ _Une cigarette_ ,” Nicky repeated with his best French drawl. He hadn’t mastered the language and it didn’t help that Sébastien already spoke Italian when they found him. There hadn’t really been a dire need for Nicky to learn.

“Did you try one, Joe? These _cigarettes_ are like tiny compact versions of that hashish pipe we used to smoke back in Constantinople.” Nicky eyed the thing with distracted wonder.

“ _Mi permetto di dissentire_. I beg to differ,” Joe replied, shaking his head. “You are very drunk, my love.”

Nicky wasn’t the only one. The party was a hoot. Drunken Parisiens mingled with American expats. Everyone from the old money socialites and the nouveau-riches to starving artists and bohemians filled their host’s luxurious apartment at the northern edge of Montparnasse. 

It was a golden age in the city of Paris, _Les Années Folles_. Years had passed since the utter devastation of the war, but for them it was like a blink of an eye. 

Nicky, Joe, Andy and Sébastien had done so much during those four terrible years. They’d fought and died for the freedom and luxury they were now at liberty to enjoy. When it was all finally over, Andy had decided they were due for a little time off to enjoy the peace that followed. And so, they were living _la vie bohème_.

“Ah look, Joe,” Nicky tittered, nudging the man at his side. “Hemingway is here.”

Joe frowned across the room. “Ah, so he is.” He murmured, nodding to the strikingly handsome man who seemed to be somberly chatting with a few well dressed Americans. 

Sébastien frowned, trying to follow their line of sight. “Who?”

Nicky side eyed him. “Ernest Hemingway. He is a journalist from America,” he replied as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. 

“Of course you would know that,” Sébastien huffed as he downed the remains of a glass of gin. 

“Nicky’s nose is always in a book.” Joe tapped said nose causing Nicky’s face to scrunch up.

“I prefer writers from this side of the Atlantic,” Sébastien said in his own defence. 

“Well, Hemingway came over a few years ago,” Nicky went on with a huff. “And then I think Fitzgerald followed him here.” When drunk, he clearly enjoyed spreading the gossip. Some of his less scrupulous morals went up in a puff of smoke, as it were.

“Fitzgerald?” Sébastien sighed. “Again, who—?”

“Another writer. They’re both from America. They’re quite famous in New York.” Nicky leaned in close to Sébastien, so close he could smell the sweet mixture of absinthe and tobacco on Nicky’s breath. “You know what I think? I think they’re secretly sleeping together,” Nicky stage-whispered. “And they came to France because America is too strict about that sort of thing.”

“You _would_ think that,” Sébastien said, rolling his eyes. “You think everyone is like you.”

“I _know_ everyone is like me,” Nicky shot back with such certainty even Joe had to hold back a laugh.

“ _Habibi,_ you cannot assume _all_ men enjoy the company of other men,” he cut in.

“Why not? It has done me no wrong.” He leaned into Joe and his head lolled drunkenly on his lover’s shoulder. “If I had not assumed, we would not be together.”

Joe couldn’t argue with that conclusion, but he could definitely point out a few issues with the logic that got Nicky there.

“ _Mon Dieu,_ Nicky. My god,” Sébastien laughed. “I was married and I had three children. Do you think I enjoy the company of men?”

“Well, it’s been a hundred years.” Nicky shrugged. “ _As-tu déjà essayé?_ Have you tried it?” 

“Have I—what?” Sébastien spluttered.

“Have you _tried_ it?” Nicky asked again, enunciating this time as if he thought Sébastien hadn’t understood his French. “If you haven’t tried it, I do not know how you can be so certain.”

“ _Bon, assez avec ça._ Alright, enough of that,” Joe said, barely able to contain his laughter. “Nicky, I will correct my previous statement. You are very, very drunk. Sébastien, whatever you do with or _sans_ men is your own business.”

“ _Exactement_. Exactly,” Sébastien agreed.

Nicky leaned back, blowing out a lungful of smoke as he went. “Boh! You two are no fun. Where is Andy?”

“I think she went home with that woman, Natalie,” Joe said, nodding towards the door.

Nicky looked at Sébastien, pointing to Joe as if his words held some deep secret meaning, but Sébastien only stared at him like he’d gone mad. 

“ _Quoi encore?_ What now?”

“All women,” Nicky drawled, “enjoy the company of other women.”

“ _Doux Jésus, aie pitié!_ Sweet Jesus, have mercy!” Sébastien stood then. “I am getting one more drink and then I am going home. Joe, deal with your _petit ami_.”

“ _Com'è che mi ha chiamato_? What did he call me? Your little friend?” Nicky asked.

“He called you my boyfriend,” Joe said, rolling his eyes and scowling at Sébastien’s retreating form.

“Aw,” Nicky tittered, leaning into Joe’s side. “Am I your _petit ami_?”

“You’re so much more, _habibi.”_ Joe pressed a kiss to the crown of Nicky’s head. “But right now, what you are is quite drunk! Come! Let’s walk along the Seine and then I’ll take you home.”

“ _E poi?_ And then?” Nicky purred, linking his arm with Joe’s earning himself a sly sideways glance.

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” Joe said with a wink.

—

Sébastien returned to the flat they were all sharing and found himself blissfully alone. As much as he loved his little family of immortals, sometimes a quiet moment to himself gave him peace especially when he was relaxed with a stomach full of alcohol. Speaking of...

Sébastien opened up the wet bar and poured himself a night cap. They kept some nice cognac stashed and he drank a glass down before stumbling into his room. With a heady sigh, Sébastien flopped down in bed, still wearing his slacks but at least he’d untucked his shirt and left his shoes at the door. 

His head was dizzy with a clean mix of cognac and absinthe. The green fairy was helping the sandman work his magic. He was seconds from drifting off to sleep when the quacking rattle of the front door banging against its hinges shook the flat before the slam of it closing again hit like an aftershock.

Sébastien jerked up, wide awake all of a sudden. 

There were voices in the hall. Nicky and Joe. The two did a very poor job of whispering as they drunkenly kicked off their shoes as they made their way through the house like a storm. 

Their room was right down the hall from Sébastiens and their laughter carried through the thin walls and cracks under the doorways. 

Sébastien wanted to leave it alone, in fact he closed his eyes and told himself he was going to do just that, but he couldn’t sleep. They were making so much noise; Joe’s chuckling laughter rumbled and Nicky’s voice carried soft but clear, chatting away like it wasn’t the middle of the night. Sébastien couldn’t hear their words, but he could hear their murmuring tones.

After a while, he couldn’t take it anymore. With a groan, he snapped up out of bed and jerked open his door. Stomping down the hall, his angry footfalls were lightened by the socks he hadn’t yet bothered to take off. 

He was going to give the two old drunks a piece of his mind, tell them to shut up before they woke the neighbours, or at the very least close their god damn door. But as soon as Sébastien turned into the half-open threshold into Nicky and Joe’s room, he froze.

He hadn’t noticed whispering words turning into soft sighs.

From where he stood at the door, Sébastien could see Nicky and Joe in bed. Their bodies were facing the door, crowns of their heads and shoulders all Sébastien could really see until Joe rose up over Nicky’s body, his back arching like a cobra about to strike. He was laying between Nicky’s wide spread legs, his hips rolling, slow and methodical.

Nicky’s head tilted back slightly, just enough for Sébastien to see the man’s eyes were tightly shut. He was breathing hard, panting as Joe moved above him. His chest arched up, glistening with a thin sheen of sweat in the dim light. His nipples hardened and peaked, stimulated with every press of Joe’s chest to his.

His breath coming in heaving gasps, Nicky’s chest rose and fell. The moans that escaped him on every exhale sent a shiver through Sébastien. God, if the sounds he was making were anything to go by, Sébastien was beginning to understand why Nicky thought everyone should enjoy the company of other men, especially when said other was such a giving lover as Joe seemed to be.

Sébastien wet his lips, his mouth suddenly bone dry. His gaze travelled up Nicky’s body once more and it was then that he noticed he wasn’t seeing the crown of Joe’s head anymore. He was staring right into his dark bedroom eyes.

Joe slowed his thrusts, but he continued to roll his hips into Nicky’s shuddering body. A confused furrow appeared in his brow when his gaze locked onto Sébastien’s.

Sébastien felt a terrible chill run through him. It froze him to the core. He knew he should leave, get the fuck out before Joe got up and rightly shouted at him for the intrusion. 

But he couldn’t move and Joe didn’t seem intent on moving either. No. Joe just shook his head as an amused huff of a laugh passed through his nose. Leaning in to press a kiss to Nicky’s panting lips, he ignored Sébastien.

And that was almost worse than being yelled at.

Sébastien stared on as Joe refocused his attention on the man writhing beneath him. He kept fucking Nicky, as if Sébastien wasn’t even worth his time to deal with.

Just like that, Sébastien wasn’t feeling frozen anymore. He was pissed. When Joe next looked up, it was to smirk at him and Sébastien couldn’t help but scoffed silently. 

_‘Ça se joue à deux._ Two can play at this game,’ he thought to himself.

Sébastien smirked right back at Joe. Raising a brow, he rubbed a hand across his chest before trailing it down, over his abdomen and to the front of his trousers. He watched Joe’s eyes following his hand. His cock was only half hard, but prominent as he wrapped his fist around the bulge of it through the fabric of his pants. When Joe’s gaze shot back up, Sébastien pointedly eyed Nicky, before his sly eyes returned to meet Joe’s.

It was a taunting show of voyeurism and he wasn’t sure what he’d been expecting, but seeing Joe’s smirk turn into a wide grin was not something on that list. Joe let his body fold over Nicky’s as if to rob him from Sébastien’s gaze. The new weight drew a soft whimper from the man beneath him as Joe enveloped him in his warmth.

Sébastien couldn’t take his eyes off them as they moved together with nearly a thousand years of fluidity and practice knowing each other’s bodies. His cock was rock hard now, filling out his fist. He couldn’t stop squeezing it as his heart pounded in his ears.

“Don’t stop,” Nicky gasped, wrapping his arms around Joe’s broad shoulders. “Never stop.”

“You like this, _habibi_?” Joe purred between kisses.

Nicky’s only response was another desperate moan. He trailed his fingers over Joe’s back, scraping blunt nails over his skin as he pulled him in closer.

Joe chuckled. He nuzzled into Nicky’s neck, his breath hot against his lover’s blushing skin. “Would you let that Frenchman do this to you?” Joe whispered. His lips, hidden against Nicky’s neck, curled into a teasing smile.

Nicky’s brow creased clearly irked that Joe was asking such random questions at a time like this. “What Frenchman?” he breathed out raggedly. “The handsome one from the party?”

“No, _habibi_. Our Frenchman. Sébastien.”

Nicky’s eyes rolled back and he groaned at the suggestion. “Why are you talking about such things?”

“ _Il n’a pas déjà essayé._ He’s never tried it. Remember?” As he spoke, Joe’s eyes flashed briefly up toward the doorway before immediately returning to Nicky. “Maybe he wants to try you?”

“I only want you.” Nicky panted, shaking his head. “Only you, Joe. Always.”

“Ah. That’s right.” Joe kissed Nicky’s gasping, parted lips, leisurely before breaking away with a smile. “Only me.”

The pace picked up. Spurred on by Nicky’s words, Joe thrust hard. The wet sounds of their lovemaking filled the room, heavy and vulgar. Joe knew his typically modest lover would blush to know they’d fucked like this with the door wide open in the morning. For now, he’d savour every gasping cry he could draw out of his Nicky.

Sébastien watched on from the doorway, mouth agape, practically drooling. When he’d grabbed his cock through his trousers before, he’d only meant to tease Joe, but now, he couldn’t pull his hand away. He stroked himself in time with Joe’s thrusts. His curled fingers and palm trailed along the tumescence pressing down the leg of his pants that were too tight all of a sudden.

“Fuck, Nicky.” Joe’s rumbling growls were filled with centuries of desire. He was always so tight, as tight as the first time they’d made love. No matter how many times, they could fuck all day and Nicky would still grip his cock like a vice. 

“ _Così. Così._ Like that. Harder, Joe,” Nicky hissed. He reached up to thread his fingers into Joe’s thick curls and pull him down for a kiss.

Sébastien forced himself to bite back a groan. He leaned against the threshold for support. His hand at the front of his pants moved faster and Nicky’s keening into Joe’s kiss didn’t help him slow down. 

“Fuck me. _Dai._ Don’t stop,” Nicky whispered against Joe’s lips, impassioned and needy. “Never stop. It’s so good. Please. _Voglio—_ I want—”

With a hitched breath cutting off his words, Nicky threw his head back, eyes thankfully closed as his head tilted towards the open door. His back arched and he came hot, wet and sticky across his chest. A white pearly string caught on one of his nipples only to be lapped up as Joe curled over him.

Joe didn’t stop. He thrust again and again. His cock touched a place deep inside Nicky’s shivering body that drew out his orgasm, prolonging it to a euphoric high. With a final roll of his hips, Joe locked himself against Nicky. His hips pressed to Nicky’s cheeks, burying his cock to the hilt before his entire body shuddered.

Nicky’s stormy eyes blinked open. He stared up at Joe with a heavy gaze still hooded with bliss. He hummed softly and touched his lover’s cheek pulling him upwards for another kiss. Their lips met, soft and lazy, a tranquil version of their ravenous kisses in the heat of the moment. 

When they broke from each other, Nicky collapsed back down onto the mattress with a satisfied sigh. Meanwhile, Joe opened his eyes and shot a subtle glance towards the door. He smirked seeing that Sébastien was long gone.

—

Sébastien barely got back to his room before his trousers were open and his cock in hand. He sat on the edge of his bed, tugging his length furiously. 

He had so many thoughts running through his mind. Lovers from his past. Women beneath him. Their faces and bodies merged with Nicky’s in his mind and then his own as he pictured himself on his back gazing up at Joe. The mélange of desires he’d never dreamt up before filled his mind until he wasn’t sure what was up and what was down. 

Soon the pleasure of his own hand was all he knew. He fucked into his fist, letting himself feel everything before the world exploded.

With a groan, Sébastien painted his hand and the floorboards at the foot of his bed with pearly strings of his orgasm. Curling into himself, he huffed, stroking slower and slower, milking the last of the bliss from his pleasure wracked body.

Eventually, Sébastien collapsed back into his pillows, cock hanging limp and sated out the front of his pants. His chest heaved with each panting breath. He ran his clean hand through his hair, pushing back the blond strands that had fallen into his face.

When the high faded, Sébastien opened his eyes and gazed down at his come splattered abdomen and sticky fingers. With a groan he stared up at the ceiling and shook his head.

“ _Putain…_ Fuck...”

—

At the breakfast table the next day, Sébastien was just taking his first sip of coffee when the front door opened. Joe stepped into the house, holding a packet of fresh bread from their local bakery. Nicky was close behind, unwrapping his scarf from around his neck as he came through the door.

“Oh, Sébastien! You’re awake! Good I wanted to talk,” Nicky said as soon as he took off his coat. He sat down across from Sébastien and leaned over the table, an ardent expression in his eyes. No longer drunk, he was back to his usual calm and tranquil self. 

Nicky bowed his head and tucked a strand of hair behind his ear, clearly embarrassed about something. “I’m sorry if I upset you at the party last night. I didn't mean to imply anything or assume anything. It was rude.”

“It’s alright, Nicky.” Sébastien coughed to clear his throat. “ _Pas de mal. Sans rancune._ No harm done. No hard feelings.”

Nicky smiled that soft timid smile of his and Sébastien guiltily shifted his gaze. However, as soon as he turned from Nicky, he found himself locking eyes with Joe. The man sat next to Nicky, his arms crossed over his chest. He stared straight through Sébastien with something both hot and cold burning in his gaze.

“That was very kind of you, Nicky,” Joe said to his lover. “I’m sure Sébastien knows you didn’t mean the things you said when you were drunk. Besides, he knows himself _very_ well.” Without taking his eyes off Sébastien, Joe smirked. “ _Il n'a pas besoin d'essayer._ He doesn’t need to try it.”

Swallowing a thick lump that had suddenly developed in his throat, Sébastien reached into his pocket, pulled out a flask and dumped the entire contents into his coffee.

“ _Dieu donne moi la force._ God give me strength.”

FIN

**Author's Note:**

> Your Kudos get completely soused with the team at the next party~  
> Your Comments are still wondering what's going on with Hemingway and Fitzgerald...
> 
> Find me on tumblr: [itsanidiom](http://itsanidiom.tumblr.com/)


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